Tapestry
by Shinjite Florana
Summary: Dragonflies, the smell of smoke, toes red with frostbite, and molten gold eyes. The story of Izayoi's life, starting from the catalyst of everything, Demon Lord of the Western Lands, Inu no Taishō. A fanfic 4 years in the making.
1. Preface

Tapestry: _Preface_

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><p>A mountain of bloodied fur rose before him. From it pierced eyes of the same sanguine color—fixated, bulging, maddened.<p>

There was wind, but he could not feel it against his skin. The only sound he could hear was the labored breathing of the monstrous figure, the only smell was the rancid warmth expelled from its great lungs.

Its wide mouth tore across its snout, close enough to moisten the air around him with each heaving breath. A mixture of saliva and blood collected at the edges of its vast maw before dripping in great oozing globs to the ground.

"You can't even change your form, can you?"

The monster continued to stare at him, eyes seeing a kaleidoscope view of the world, twisted and deceptively appealing.

"You can't even speak."

The huge beast stretched it jaw wide, lowering its head to engulf the form before it. The movement revealed an angry red line encircling the creature's neck, as if the head of the mighty beast had once been severed.

The moon hung low in the sky, immense and red, tingeing the night's murder with heavenly highlights. And so fell the last Inugami of the Hayashi clan.


	2. First Impressions

Tapestry ch1: _First Impressions_

Alt text:_ Featuring agnsty teen Izayoi!_

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><p>"Izayoi, this is not company you are welcome in. Hide your face and leave us."<p>

Indignant rolling eyes were soon covered by a lifted sleeve shading her face as commanded. She would get scolded later for her lack of thinking and disrespect, but Izayoi was desperately bored and feeling especially apathetic about the world today.

She had worn one of her more elaborate jūnihitoe in mourning for her mood. It was a darker confection, the ornate outside a night sky blue and lily pad green pattern of silk dragonflies. The insects had overtaken her view as she brought her wrist before her forehead. She didn't linger to ponder the pattern instead casting her eyes down to watch her feet as she shuffled away from the tight group of middle aged men.

Why her father would ever think she would want to spend time with such miserable company was beyond her. The drab group was a little more exciting today, though. Two strangers were with the familiar bore of men her father usually familiarized with. They were foreign looking and dressed in very strange garb for visiting. From what she had glimpsed, the two appeared as if they had walked right off the battle field, in barbaric armor.

The murmuring from the pod of men grew louder. The noise alerted Izayoi to the figure peaking around her sleeve to glimpse at her face.

Her eyes met the brilliant shimmer of gold, sliced through with onyx.

She gasped—startled—and jerked back, pressing her arm against her face, suddenly shy.

Those eyes hadn't been human.

"I claim to be no expert on the mortal concept of beauty, but your face would be a welcome sight to human and yōukia alike. It's a shame you hide it." His voice was very low.

The pink that colored her pale cheeks deepened to scarlet. Her other hand reach up to also cover her face. She opened her mouth only to then shut it before repeating the process, at a loss of how to respond.

'You flatter me,' perhaps—or 'vanity is unbecoming of a lady,' She thought, but both responses died before escaping her throat.

"It's rude for a Lady to show her face to a stranger." She eventually blubbered.

The heavy footfalls of the other men (including her father, she was sure) raced toward her accompanied by voiced protest condemning either party.

The stranger gave a low chuckle.

"For some, perhaps, but in your case I'd say the crime is in keeping the pleasing view to yourself."

The color of her face must have become unsightly.

"H-how rude…" she stammered.

Her father's whiskery voice broke into the conversation

"General, please stop harassing my daughter. I apologize for her rudeness-" Her father 's blubbering was suddenly cut off and Izayoi heard a soft gasp.

Her curiosity got the better of her and she nervously peeked over her sleeve.

The group had become unnervingly silent. Her site revealed the second stranger of the group, obvious companion to this man with inhuman eyes, holding a wicked looking blade to the neck of her father. The golden eyed man was turned slightly to look at the situation but his expression was hidden and both he and his companion remained motionless.

Her face grew suddenly pale as moments past, her arms completely falling from her face.

An inaudible "no" left her lips.

The inhuman eyed man turned toward her as if he had caught the breath and his gaze demanded hers.

Jagged lines the deep purple of an old bruise tore along his cheekbones on either side of his face. Thick silver hair was messily pulled back high on his head, with dangerously pointed ears poking from the falling bangs. His face was blank but his eyes were fierce. The gold of them seemed molten and their illusions of movement both captivated and terrified her.

A demon.

A breath didn't pass through her, held by his gaze.

"Stand down, Futoshi." His voice finally rumbled, addressing his threatening companion.

The man pulled a face but stepped back from her father, huffing off a ways from the group with an unpleasant look on his face.

"You misinterpret me." The inhuman eyed man said. "I'm not simply interested in estate, history, and custom," it took a moment for Izayoi to realize that he was addressing her gasping father though his gaze was on her.

"Women, family, these also can be valuable." He stepped forward, the motion effortless, to examine her more closely. She was a bug pinned to the display board by his stare.

"Human breeding confuses me. You call her daughter and your scents confirm this, but there is little resemblance." His eyes seemed to spark and he finally pulled away from her, turning back to her father.

"Y-yes…" her father and leader of the Hayashi family stuttered the words, rubbing his neck where a moment before the deathly chill of a knife had sat. "Takes after her mother…" he mumbled.

A moment of awkward silence settled among the group. Izayoi considered retreating.

"Lord General, you humor these humans too much." Spat the second companion, now removed from the group.

"And you, to me, not enough." The inhuman man replied, a low growl to his voice. He turned with a swish of his garb to face his companion, fixing him with a stare. A tense moment later Futoshi turned his head, bowing away from the demanding gaze. The golden eyed man seemed satisfied with this, turning back to address Izayoi's father and friends.

"I'll take my leave, but will return. Thank you for your hospitality." He inclined his head toward them—a gesture of recognition rather than a bow of gratitude.

"N-not at all! We are you humble servants, Lord General." Her father stuttered back, bowing lowly at the waist.

The General stepped out to stand with his companion in the ceilingless courtyard. He turned back to meet the eyes of each man before finally capturing Izayoi's. She clasped her arms against her chest.

"Until we meet again." He farwelled before leaping clear out of the court, followed closely by his comrade.

A moment passed before she heard her father release a deep breath he had been holding. The men around him burst into chatter, a dozen conversations springing in media res. She turned to her father, the only silence in the group. He hung his head, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief of some sort.

She demanded his attention.

"Father, who was the man, what was he doing here?" she pulled forward placing herself directly in front of him. Her father sighed again, speaking her name in a placating tone, but she continued, cutting him off. "He nearly got you killed! He wasn't human, he was-he was…!"

"A demon." He finished for her, his eyes unexpectedly dark as he finally matched hers. "The _first-born_," he spoke the word like an oath, "of the Inugami clan. This visit marks our branding. Our lives are bound, damned and freed, with his will."

He took a deep breath.

"Demon Lord of the Western lands, Inu no Taishō."

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><p>.<p>

.

Hello reader! Welcome to Tapestry, an Inuyasha fanfiction.

I started writing this perhaps 3 or 4 years ago. I, like many Inuyasha fans, am fascinated with Inu no Taishō and Izayoi. On how on _earth_ they came about, and how on _earth_ a weak noble lady of her times raised a halfbreed child in the Sengoku period. It started with my fanfiction First Breath and continued on to this.

I have a bad habit of not finishing my stories. I've made a huge effort to not continue this tradition by writing around 7,000 words of a buffer for myself. The only problem is that I haven't written linearly and think it unlikely I'll do so with any consistency in the future. Some pieces are long, some pieces are short, and some pieces don't make a lick of sense because I haven't filled in the gaps in-between. This will probably eventually read like a collection of one-shorts, or sections of a tapestry. Some are pre Inuyasha's birth, some are post Inu no Taishō death, and all are sitting in Word,

staring at me.

So I'm posting. Cuz If one thing can get me writing, it's people TELLING me to write more.

So **please REVIEW!** I'll post soon.


	3. Deal with a Demon

Tapestry Ch2: _Deal with a Demon_

Alt text: _in which we meet two of my new favorite characters and I don't know how to write __accents_

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><p>"YOU MADE A DEAL WITH A DEMON?!"<p>

The voice shrieked.

"And not metaphorically you, you LITERALLY MADE A DEAL WITH A DEMON!" The occupant of the voice was the only one that could address the head of the Hayashi family in such a demeaning and childish way—his wife.

"I had no choice! By his simple appearance, my hands were tied, I couldn't—"

"Oh! OH! So a demon comes a callen' and you jus' give him the grand ol' tour! Shake hands, make friends and get in' bed with em'?"

"Dear, your dialect, it's slipping back—"

The woman's voice was exasperated, but real fear was behind her rant, "Our name is shamed! The Hayashi's final blow, we will have our throats slit in our sleep! I'm sure the entire village is rebelling now, coming to burn down the estate!"

The suffering husband looked more the part of a child as he sat in front of the raving woman as she paced back and forth.

Izayoi sighed, shifting numb legs that had been folded under her far too long.

"Quit squirming." Complained the second witness of the dispute—unjustified grumbling as he sat legs sprawled with a disregard and freedom she would never be allowed.

Her brother Ichirou was blessed both with being older and being male, two things Izayoi had yet to achieve herself. With their aptly named first son already taken care of, Izayoi was left as a political asset and spoiled noble lady—flourishing at the latter, as her mother always took care to remind her, but making less front on the former. At nearly eighteen and a maid, her chances at marriage were slimming fast, owing in a good part to her stubbornness.

"Shove it, Ichirou, like you're one to talk. You try to maintain a seiza for as long as mother can fume and not be anything but pins and needles by the end."

"Speaking of the end," her brother shifted his position, leaning closer to continue their hushed conversation. "When will this be over?" he voiced Izayoi's thought.

She sighed.

"I don't know." Izayoi said, exasperated, pausing before indignation crept into her voice as she continued "What's it to you? As if you have something productive to do after, besides going off to some brothel to heap more shame upon poor Nayo-chan."

Her brother quirked a half smile, reveling the missing tooth next to his left canine.

"What can I say? Is it not the duty of the noble class to breathe life into the economy through spending? Blessed curse that all the whores in the province are clamoring for my attention, I say."

"Ah, the noble's duty—as if our falling house could be called such. What little power the Hayashi clan has and Nayoko married into is ruined by the shame you heap upon her with your…your _harlotry_."

"Harlotry?" Ichirou gave an angry smirk, his little sister's cheek finally beginning to rub him the wrong way. "And look at you, trying to sound all smart about the family's state of affairs when all you do all day is sashinko and bemoan the silver spoon you suck on for its spot of tarnish."

Izayoi's cheek bloomed red. Her mouth opened to retort but her brother continued, more vinegar seeping into his voice.

"You accuse me of shamming a wife that I took out of charity and obedience to father to begin with. I have no need of a bride to be useful to our family, and don't pretend that Nayoko isn't ornamental, as frail as her countenance is. Perhaps you should fix that wretched character of yours and find yourself a husband before accusing me of not doing my part—that's all you're good for after all, isn't it?"

Izayoi's brown eyes stung, distracting her from sharpening her tongue for retort. Before she got the chance though, before even the spiteful words had fully left her big brother's mouth, a fist—deceptively small—indented the top of his head.

Ichirou hissed in pain, shielding his head and curling away from the blow.

"Watch your tongue," A voice rasped, "Is this the boy I raised?"

Ichirou rubbed fretful hands over his crown a few more times before obediently apologizing.

"Tha's what I thought."

She next turned to her daughter, sparing nothing in her glare.

"And don't give me those crocodile tears. Are you not at fault, antagonizing your elder brother? Not that what she speaks isn't truth." She turned back to Ichirou.

The young man scoffed. Lady Hayashi shook her head.

"And such behavior at twenty-four. Shame on you."

Ichirou's hands dropped from his head as he turned away from his mother. She sighed.

"And shame on me." She reached out to lay an affectionate hand on her son's head. It only lay there a moment before he batted it away, standing in a huff to leave.

"Don't you leave the estate before stopping to see your father. Try and make yourself useful to this family, eh?" The older man had apparently snuck out when his wife had distracted herself with their misbehaving offspring. Ichirou grunted an affirmative and gave a lazy wave as he disappeared out the door.

"You think you're done at raising em'. Get em' grown, get em' wed, but then no grandchildren to speak of and if it isn't your legacy to worry about it's another…" the elder woman muttered to herself as she straightened her appearance, tucking a strand here and tightening a bow there.

Lady Hayashi was a vibrant woman that hailed from a far kingdom, for which she owed her informal dialect too. Along in years now her beauty was faded, her demeanor both brash and caring. She had a bad habit of letting her accent slip when in the intimate circle of her immediate clan and was fiercely protective of them. She was almost always active, even in her advancing years, and had a flare for the dramatic. She was sincere though, in a brash and heated sort of way.

Izayoi blink away the remnants of the storm that had been threatening in her eyes.

"I hate him." She supplied quietly.

Her mother turned to her, stern at her words.

"It's okay because he hates me too." She continued.

Her mother attempted to capture her gaze but she refused to match it.

"…child."

"…"

Lady Hayashi knelt before her youngest, curling an arm around her shoulders.

"Do you remember when you were three and the Shi family from the Provence over came to visit? Back then you did nothing but stare at the last koi in our pond and the Shi boys that had been playing with your brother all day decided to scoop it out just to get a rise out of you. And your brother gave both of those boys, a year and two years older than himself, such shiners you could damn near see your reflection in them. He's still missing that tooth."

Izayoi's eyes stung again but she kept her indignant pout.

"Your brother loves you. So stop pouting or your face will stick that way."

Her mother stood and so did she. The elder woman gave a great sigh, one of many she seemed to heave that day.

"I worry about you."

Izayoi turned to meet her mother's gaze.

"And your father and your brother. The appearance of this Inugami makes my bones ache. I had thought these demons and their troubles had died long ago in the past of the Hayashi clan."

Lady Hayashi turned to leave.

"Why has the demon come? Why to us?"

The elder woman turned back at her daughter's question.

"I won't speak of those dark times to you or anyone. I fear breathing life back into something that should stay long dead."

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><p>.<p>

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Sup, friendos

So this is the last chapter I have chronologically written. I want to write one more in this chronology but then we are flying by the seat of our pants ladies and gentlemen. It may start getting chippy reeeal soon.

As always, **please REVEIW!** It's honestly the most encouraging thing ever and I'd really like to interact more with the Inuyasha fan community!


	4. Getting on With It

Tapestry Ch3: Getting on With It

Alt text: _I tried to write the InT and Izzy dinner scene and something went horribly wrong_

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><p>Her mother was completely against it—completely and <em>utterly<em> against her being there, interacting with the dangerous man (and she used the term man _loosely_ she was quick to add) at _all_—and that was in no small part why she now poured Saki into a glass that the demon General had yet to touch. He instead simply sat there,

Staring at her.

It was quite blatant, and the more she knelt pinned by his gaze, unable to match it but for fleeting glimpses that sent her stomach into acrobatics, the more she cursed her stubbornness and rehearsed all the '_you were right, mom!_'s in her head that she could think of.

True to his word, Inu no Taishō returned two weeks after his last visit, just long enough for Izayoi to fall back into familiar boredom. It had taken a while until she ha been able to put the encounter out of her mind. The first few days after their meeting she was, in all truth, quite nosey. Never having had a reason to implement such particular skills, she (unsurprisingly) didn't fare well as a detective and the trail grew cold quick. Her biggest discouragement was the reluctance or flat out _refusal_ of nearly everyone she talked too to answer her questions; _why_ the demon had come, and why to _here_, why he wasn't simply razing the place to the ground, why _they_ weren't sending out distress messages to every neighboring province, demon slayer, and samurai rouge to _help them_ if they were under threat from this General.

The visit was no small matter. She had never heard of any sort of cordial relations between humans and demons before. Demons were just monsters, naively minded but powerful and dangerous. They were the fiercest of animals, only discussed as grave matters of security or within demeaning insults.

She had also never known that demons could look so…human. Not that the Demon Lord wasn't fierce—with scalding eyes and marble poise, a unyielding command in his demeanor and voice, and entity to be respected, to be _followed_—but nothing like what the scrolls depicted. The art there held gargantuan beasts in blistering red, hair (if any) a sparse black spray and mouths full of tusks far too large for even their forked tongues to form words around. With distended bellies and loincloths of animal hide, it was a stark contrast to the dignity seen so blatant in the _true_ demon she encountered. In a way he was much, much more terrifying then the pictures.

Perhaps it was out of this solemn fear that no one would speak to her about him. She could understand that.

Her brother had talked to her, if only briefly and with little seriousness.

"Think of the status boost our Clan will have when this gets out." He had casually said after a few solid minutes of teasing. "The weak Hayashi clan fraternizing with a demon! See if the Shi family has the guts to bother us then."

"That's not status," Izayoi retorted "That's something close to scare tactics."

Her brother smirked at that, revealing the gap there.

"Well now you're just arguing semantics. This is an age of war and bloodshed. We've been lucky enough to stay relatively clear of it, but that won't last forever. Think of him…as our _insurance_. There's a good chance he'll scare off any violent rivals of ours and if that doesn't work," Ichirou shrugged, the smile never really leaving his face. "We've got a demon on our side. A _General_, no less. That will make what little resistance we would've been able to put up before a bit better. Only trick is making sure he doesn't _massacre us all_ before then."

A soft little voice interrupted them then from behind the sliding door.

"Excuse me," the timid feminine voice said, announcing her presence before pulling open the door to reveal her diminutive form, kneeling with head bowed.

The sneer on Ichirou's face _transformed_. That was the only word for how all the devil-may-care malice veiled there melted off his features to leave a vulnerable, nervous look.

"Oh, Nayoko. W-what is it?" his voice pitched itself slightly, trying to sound less threatening.

"I'm sorry to interrupt my lord, but I've come to invite you to dinner." The girl kept her head bowed, her petite frame drowning in her copious cloths, making her curled form look like nothing more than a fallen bundle of light, airy clothes.

"R-right, dinner, of course…" Her brother seemed stumped as how to correctly answer. Izayoi heaved a quick sigh before turning to face her sister-in-law.

"Of course Nayo-chan! Me an Ichi will be right over. Do you know what they're serving today?"

The girl lifted her head as if started by the enthusiastic response before shaking no. Her face was very small and pale with almost translucent skin. The only criticism that could perhaps be given to the pretty girl was that she was a little gaunt and pinched looking, with wide eyes that seemed wider by the line of shadow surrounding them.

"Well whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be delicious. I hope you have the appetite for it today!"

"Oh, no, I'm not sure about today," the wisp of a girl all but muttered. She smiled softly as she met Izayoi's eyes who beamed back as warmly as she could. Nayoko's eyes then darted as if by accident to Izayoi's brother, locking with him a moment and making him stiffen. As if suddenly realizing something important she drew in breath and bowed back to the floor. "G-goodbye!"

She fumbled a moment before sliding the door shut. A soft but speedy pitter-patter of feet could be heard trailing away.

Ichirou heaved a great breath, his body slumping as if exhausted. He seemed disappointed, lifting a hand to distractedly scratch the back of his head.

"…she acts more like a servant then like a wife." Izayoi remarked.

"I know."

"You two spend far too much effort being scared of each other while trying _not_ to scare each other."

"Really, though, _Ichi_?"

"You act like you're walking on eggshells whenever she's around!"

"And in front of Nayoko."

"You've been married for _over_ a year now, haven't you?"

"I haven't been _Ichi_ for more than a _decade_ now. Yet you seem to insist-"

"And don't start with the 'well at least I _am_ married' bit, I get it, I'll die a spinster if I want too,"

"_Insist_ on embarrassing me whenever she's around."

"You need to spend more time with her. Encourage her to eat, take her for a walk outdoors, the poor thing's bound to strengthen. She adores you, you know. Can't imagine why, with how little mind you give her."

"That's not true. Also, you just gave me good advice for a sick dog. Congrats."

Izayoi glared at him for a good long minute.

"So dinner then, yeah?"

"Sure thing, Ichi."

Said dinner had been fish—and not good fish, either. Izayoi couldn't really blame Nayoko as she picked at her plate dejectedly. The food was depressing enough to ruin anyone's day, quite the contrast to the current spread.

They were having a feast. A feast for a demon she was still unsure why was there in the first place. She was all too aware of why she _herself_ was there. A little (okay more like a lot) of high-pitched pleading with her father went a long way. Throw in a few lines about wanting to be more involved in the family and bam, you got your defiant way.

So the tables were full, stocked and stuffed with food she wasn't even sure demons ate. Meat and fishcakes and fruits and salad of so many kinds it made her head spin. She didn't even recognize some of the dishes. What _did_ demons eat? Didn't they eat children or something like that? Or was that trolls? Did _trolls_ exist? She worried the warm ceramic jar of Saki resting in her lap before glancing over at the General.

He was looking straight at her.

Again.

With a small squeak she diverted her gaze. She could have sworn she saw him smirk from the corner of her eye.

Whatever demons ate, he surely hadn't touched a thing. The feast they had thrown for the Demon Lord seemed more a curiosity than something he was to participate in. Sitting at the head of the low table skirted on either side with half a dozen balding men, he look as much in place there as a destroying angel at a dairy farm.

The start of the meal had horribly foreshadowed the most awkward, and potentially _lethal_, next two hours of Izayoi's life.

_Mom, you were really,_ really_ right._

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><p><em>.<em>

I really do apologies for this chapter. I started by trying to write one of my most anticipated scenes with Izayoi and InT, the Dinner scene. It was here she was supposed to to learn what exactly and inugami is and why her family is the Demon Lord's focus and not some other. (I hate forcing my defensibly necessary OCs on you guys when what YOU wanna see is the same as me- Izzy and InT!)

Instead, look forward to that next Friday! I'm trying very hard to keep my update scheduled.

**Please REVIEW!** I'd like to get to know you invisible readers!


	5. Dinner and a Scandal

Tapestry Ch4: Dinner and a Scandal

Alt text: _In which I rewrite a chapter 3 times, miss a deadline, and still am huffy about how it turned out._

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><p>Inu no Taishō was an ancient being.<p>

Thousands of years old now, though the exact number he was unsure of. Times didn't really—_hadn't_ really—changed for him in the many years past. What _did_ change were humans. Humans learned things, invented things, grew things, and though their lives were barely longer than the lives of the brute animals they tamed, it grew longer each year as strange medicines accounted for the genetic perfection they lacked. They passed on this knowledge though an obsession with tradition, in broad universal culture and in family units—and thought they were very small and finite, as a species, they _grew_.

They were obsessed with reproduction, with legacy. Mortality rates forced them to have many children and it was not much later until those children bore more, always rushing to keep up, their instinctual urge to continue their clan a strange imitation of the eternal divine.

They fascinated him.

He surpassed the humans in endless ways. He was stronger, faster, had heightened senses and near indefinite life. He didn't get sick like they did, he didn't spend a fourth his life dependant on others to survive. Many things he simply _knew_, instinctually, naturally, where humans had to struggle and stretch and _bend_ to learn the simplest necessities. They were fragile things that needed the right food in the right amounts and at the right time—and sleep in spades, every night nearly, their lives a repeating pattern. These habits were vital to them, so much that one small disruption in any field left them as good as dead.

And through every difference and every death, through war and peace and rise and fall the Demon Lord had _watched_ them.

Because they fascinated him.

Because although he knew—he _felt_—a much greater connection with fellow yōkai, he found something unique in them. Something small and often buried, hard to grasp, _impossible_ to name. He found something in them that every limb, fiber and muscle of his body told him was _precious_, something worth protection, despite countless flaws.

And besides all that, they were quite amusing.

Perhaps it was pride, but watching the old men sweat as he sat in their midst, he could barely hold back a grin observing the state. The smell of fear was so strong it would have been suffocating had it not been for the tangy smell of excitement that coiled next to him.

Strange girl, that she smelt equal parts terrified and thrilled. Strange and beautiful and so, so young. Little more feisty then other woman of her state—due to her age in part, he surmised—but there was a certain…_quirk_ to her that was very distinctly a part of _her_. At this point, he admitted to himself, it was hard to see past that face, but as he sat there biting back a smile as the nervous girl looked everywhere but him, he did feel like a devil, for he wanted nothing more than to keep watching her squirm.

Her father's voice broke the silence that misted about them. It felt loud in the tension filled space, as if he should have instead whispered, or better yet, kept quiet all together.

Inu no Taishō tore his eyes away from the fair face to meet with the speaking man in, from what he observed from the slight cringe he received, an intimidating stare.

"Again you grace us, Lord General." The Hayashi head croaked.

As the statement was just that, a _statement_, the Demon Lord stayed mute.

In the resounding silence he could have heard a fly's heartbeat. Luckily enough, no such creature was about the room. Instead, a small swarm of dragonflies with gossamer wings of watercolor beat frantically, hidden by the paper screen behind the girl sitting next to him. These he did hear. They matched the Kimono she had worn the day he met her, the dark tones paling her face into an ethereal beauty.

The Hayashi head cleared his throat. "But today you're unaccompanied?"

At that he had to laugh. When he finished his eyes met stiff forms and the refreshed smell of prickling fear. He left Futoshi for good reason. He felt generous enough to share the reason.

"My _companion_ would have easily misconstrued taking part in a _human feast_." He said through a grin. His eyes caught a stare in particular and glanced to his right to see that the girl had finally amassed enough courage to look at him again.

It didn't last long. After he met her stare she quickly tried to hide behind the clay urn of rice wine she held. Why this shy attitude of hers amused him so much he wasn't sure. Perhaps because it felt so alien to her. In her impertinent youth she paid little heed to others she encountered, but to him she would hide her face and squirm. He felt a smile curling at his lips and leaned over, forcing himself back into her view.

She squeaked and tried to hide further.

He really was a devil of the highest caliber.

He invaded her space more, eventually pulling an incommodious whine from her that he instantly needed to hear more of. Having hidden in her hands he reached out to pull them from her face.

"Lord General!"

Oh right. They were still here.

Two pairs of eyes snapped to the head of family, one lidded gold reluctant and bothered at the interruption, the other dark eyes wide and expectant.

"You're…_troubling_ my daughter."

Inu no Taishō returned his gaze to the girl next to him.

"Do I frighten you?"

She matched his gaze and responded without thinking.

"Yes!"

The General pulled his hand away at the bold admittance.

"IZAYOI!" the voice of her father condemned, rattling tableware as his hands met the surface in front of him.

As if just realizing what she said, Izayoi met her father's glare, raising her hand to a face painted in surprise.

"Oh," she fluttered, looking back and forth between the guest and to her father.

"Forgive her, my Lord, she is young and untamed with want for a husband, she is mistaken in her mind," The head continued to ramble, but Inu no Taishō was much more concerned with the pale embarrassment draining the face next to him.

"I…I should go. I-I'm sorry, excuse me," She muttered, standing to leave.

"Stop." Inu no Taishō commanded. Dishes had been spilled and men on either side of the table had stood, springing into conversation while others remained frozen in panic but now the room stilled, a storm of movement freezing at his demand. Even the air hovered unmoving as they held their breath.

"You aim to remove the first of the Hayashi clan that has shown me honesty? I forbid it!" there was a spark in his eyes that didn't reach his lips.

The first to move was Izayoi and she crumbled back to her knees in an exasperated huff. As if flagged, the room was again abuzz.

"I apologize for my rudeness—and ignorance—in these matters." Izayoi spoke softly amongst the din, but the General ignored all others and talked to her.

"Ignorance?"

"Yes." She glanced up at him only to break the stare again, turning back to her lap where nervous hands had picked the dry skin of her cuticles raw. The metallic sent of her blood that flowered up form the mess was tangy and sweet. "I'm unsure of why you are involved with my family…what business you have with such _meager_ nobles, if we can retain such a name at all."

"What business?" His voice was suddenly low and though it was quiet, the din around him petered auspiciously into quite as he continued. "What _business_ I have with the Hayashi? Dear girl, do you not know the own history of your house?"

She stared at him blankly, dumbfounded at the transformation into seriousness that had overcome him.

A smile quirked a corner of his lips. The look didn't reach his eyes. The coldness remained as he relaxed away from her, leaning his jaw against curled claws.

"Do you know where Inugami come from, my Lady?"

A chill ran up between her shoulder blades to disperse dizzily against the back of her head. _Lady_. She was _my lady_ now, no longer _dear girl_.

Her father began to speak but one look from the Demon Lord was enough to silence him, and this time there was real threat there behind molten eyes.

Realizing he was waiting for a response, Izayoi tried to speak. When that didn't work, she managed to shake her head.

"Inugami are different from all other demons as dogs are to all other animals." He waited after this statement, gauging her enlightenment. After seeing none, he continued.

"You _breed_ them."

Izayoi heart beat loudly. She had no doubt he could hear every thump.

"The same way you tailored canines to you needs, Inugami did not come _from the wild_, as you might say. Inugami were _forged_."

"Kitsune. Tanuki. Tengu. They are as the fox, raccoon, and crow are, granted to the world by nature. But man created dog. And so he did Inugami." He paused at this. Izayoi took a breath and felt the sin of it in the air.

"Do you know how this is done?"

Izayoi could not manage to shake her head now. She felt dizzy, as if she had been awake for years, like she was pulling oxygen from water. It was as if he was showing her a fresh battlefield, with jagged lines gorged in the land over acres, pointing to each lonely corpse staked amongst its brothers and telling her what soul it had once held.

"First you need a dog. The more loyal, the better."

Her father interrupted, and Izayoi gasped. Not at her father—not at his foolhardiness is testing the General—but at the snarl that ripped through the air. For a moment the amber of the yōkai's eyes were gone, replaced by a deep blood red. His face was contorted inhumanly in anger, his nose more a muzzle in the features of his rage.

And just like that it was gone, hidden by a splayed hand as he presumably composed himself. When he looked back up to lock eyes with her once again there was no trace of the episode anywhere on his face. Though it seemed impossible, his voice was lower now, deathly calm.

"You bury this dog in a hole up to its neck so it can't move. Just out of reach of it you place food, and you wait. The dog starves, and after days of surviving with the resilience bred into it, taunted by the unattainable food, you cut off its head. The spirit left over after such a ritual is an Inugami."

"Human families did this, ingeniously so, to harness the power of yōkai for their own use. The same way dogs served them in life these sprits would serve them in death, so loyal were the creatures. But like all else humans seem to craft, there was a flaw. A great flaw in this marvelous human accomplishment, the Inugami. They had a tendency to go mad."

"Not right away, not even in one human lifetime or perhaps even two or ten. But eventually, the tortured spirits would lose to the vengeance that formed them. By the time humans discovered this, of course, dozens of Inugami-mochi had already formed, with an army of Inugami already created—a militia of powder kegs with their fuses already lit. Yours is one such family. I am here because the last of the Hayashi Inugami has fallen, and I am interested in the pieces he came from. And so a scandal walks among you."

Through debilitating fear that left her shivering stone, through suffocating silence that made her gasp for air, up a cliff of slick mud and sharp rock, Izayoi clamored, surfacing at last to speak the word that peaked her curiosity beyond all rational before the skeletal hands of reason pulled her back into stunned stillness.

"Scandal?" she questioned.

The acid smile on his face finally seemed to reach his eyes. She didn't look away now, held captive through his speech.

"Oh yes. For you see, _I was not made_." Spoke the first born of the Inugami.

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><p>.<p>

Sorry I missed last Friday! to make up for it I'm posting ch5 tomorrow. Sesshomaru shows ups, so it's BOUND to be fun!

**IMPORTANT**: The makeup of this story is going to change drastically VERY SOON. After a chapter or two more, the lovely little chronological story will BE NO MORE and I will be posting shorts from all over Izayoi time line. It will start reading like a bunch of short stories or pieces of a tapestry *mic drop* so prepare yourself.

As always, please **REVIEW!**


	6. The Rebellious Age

Tapestry Ch5: The Rebellious Age

Alt text:_ In which the FF site poops out for a day and I jump back in __time_

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><p>After living for hundreds of years, the mundane day-to-day became fuzzy. The where, the when, occasionally the why fell to the wayside of thought. This was especially true if you didn't have to sleep or eat or any of those other routine things. You were left with the much less substantial to occupy your mind.<p>

He was always traveling. Always very aware of where he was, but didn't linger on the fact. He didn't need to. Humans and demons, faces hard to pinpoint, scents that didn't need remembering. A life like this left one's mind abstract. Strange things would stand out to him—the sound of this waterfall as opposed to another, the warm feeling of red embraced between his fingers after a battle, the smell of human hearths in the distance, the thick and unrelenting smog left in the wake of a swing of his sword.

Not that he did things wantonly. Everything had a reason, had a time and a circumstance and a role. But after so many battles and comrades and moments of hot anger and energy, joy, even fear- after lives and lives lived, one had to be selective.

His world was not simply instances. There were interactions; there were times and places and people _worth_ remembering. These were more distinct than any other in his nearly endless catalog of knowledge. His clan was one of these.

For many other demons, even those in positions of power similar to his, he supposed they would be more invested in what could be called their family. He knew this was true of the small clans of the wolf, fox, and cat. But he was in a very unique position.

One such instance of importance was the day he killed his father.

The flea had truly been the first to meet him—after the danger had been dealt with, of course. His nasal buzz of excitement was almost a comfort, a semblance of normalcy in the numbing aftermath. It wasn't meant to be comforting, he knew, but he hadn't really listened to his tiny companion, simply allowed him passage as he jumped excitedly on his shoulder.

No, the real first one he had met, the first of his clan, had been his son.

Sesshomaru was not fully grown yet. Not a pup, but not yet acknowledged as the Lord he was to become. He was taking after his father in his almost total detachment from his clan, making his presence even more particular.

The General had enough sense to know he was approaching and courteously stopped, causing Myoga to whir with fresh terror at the change. Aptly, the flea soon fled. The Demon Lord was left alone, light dappling down from the canopy leaving patches of shadow along his face.

Sesshomaru landed in the clearing, stopping his momentum with two steps toward his father. They still had great distance between them in the forest cove. The young man had not approached further to stand at his father's side as he normally did—perhaps cautiously—but comfortably. No, now there was great untred space between them, and there it would remain until his death.

The silence held. The General knew he would speak when he was ready.

"You killed him." He finally said, his voice deepened with new maturity. "You killed Grandfather." It wasn't a question, but he answered him anyway.

"Yes."

More silence.

"I know why you did. I know what he was, what he really was…what we come from."

Sesshomaru seemed not quite himself. His chest still heaved silently—he had rushed here. His eyes were just a bit too wide, his body a bit too tense, his voice too stiff, betraying his front.

"It needed to be done. Done long ago. I told you as much, didn't I?" he continued.

"Yes, my son, you did." In no Taishō said solemnly, allowing the lack of respect creeping into the boy's tone.

"He'd gone mad-"

"Yes, that is why I-"

"-gone long before now, just like all the others. But you waited." Sesshomaru's voice remained relatively calm, but his eyes blazed. "You waited until now. Until he had deteriorated to…until he disgraced Inugami even further."

"…disgraced?" his father's voice was quiet now, dangerous.

"You know what he represents, what he did to this clan-"

"FOR this clan." The general boomed before becoming soft again. "You also know what he did for it. What all the Elders did."

"The Elders went mad."

"It was in there nature to."

"In their _nature_?" he spit, his back bristling before he recovered some composure, his voice lowering to match the pitch of his father's. "The Elders were corrupted. Their very existence was, their creation a mistake."

His father laughed. The sound was alien in the serious hush of the conversation

"Then you'd rather our un-existence? You curse your creator, your origin." His lips curled in a smile but his eyes remained stony. Cold. "You are still young."

Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes. He might as well have bared his teeth and snarled for what the subtle gesture revealed. "This is the humans' fault. Humans are weak. Infectious."

"You came from humans."

"NO!" He barked, demeanor cracking and eyes flaring red. His father tipped his head back in a grimace as the aura-charged air whipped around him, warning. Sesshomaru calmed. "No, _I_ did not. _They_ may have, but I have nothing to do with _humans_."

"You are young." His father repeated. "You distance yourself from our clan for the wrong reasons—For the exact reasons I cannot bring myself to tear completely from them. You see weakness where I see something precious."

"Precious?" The scandal of emotion the normally emotionless demon shook with was fierce. "The weakness of humans is like a disease, infecting all that involve with them. Humans created a being for themselves as a tool and a weapon—and even then made it flawed, doomed to insanity due to _their_ hands, _their_ design. Precious? There is _nothing_ precious there."

"Enough." The Demon Lord finally said, ending what he viewed as a petty argument from a youth. He turned from his impetuous son. "Return to me when you are instead willing to offer your condolences."

A twig snapped behind him and a low growl began to rumble. A huge presence expanded behind him, swirling ruby and purple plumes of power.

Inu no Taishō stopped, his face breaking into a cross of disappointment and disgust. He turned to face his son, now an enormous hound, his back easily reaching above the treetops. What little wildlife remained around the two after their prolonged argument fled to the skies. The huge demon lowered his head to level with his father's yet small form. A snarl ripped around foaming saliva, snout wrinkled and furious. Thus he demanded his father's response.

So he gave it.

Another hurricane of power, larger, torrential. The beast of the first born Inugami was far bigger than his son. Standing stiffly to his full height, his chest cleared the tree line with room to spare. The new beast didn't even dignify the rebellious pup with a growl, only curling a lip to reveal glistening fangs in anger at the other's childlessness.

Sesshomaru cringed back while the rest of his body language remained aggressive and tense. Despite getting what he wanted from his father, he couldn't bring himself to move, bound by the Alfa's molten stare.

The Demon Lord locked eyes with his rival blood. Sesshomaru fought every nerve that told him to succeed, to look away and admit the other's dominance. He kept the gaze, red eyes met in primal struggle.

Inu no Taishō had had enough. Stepping forward with a sound like thunder, he lunged at the younger, catching his throat expertly in his mouth. Sesshomaru all but yelped in defiance, his own bite snapping just out of reach. The Demon Lord's eye burned as he forced the weaker to the ground, slowly but impossibly strong. Sesshomaru crumbled. His back legs strained upward to rake at his father's underbelly. Inu no Taishō's bite tightened. Black blots bloomed in Sesshomaru's vision. The teeth like spears dug into his flesh, staining a red collar around his neck, eerily similar to another.

The Demon Lord raked with bared claws, rolling his son on his back, stomach exposed, forcing his submission. Sesshomaru stopped his struggle, left pinned to the ground, one eye locked on his father, still refusing to break the contact. His chest's erratic heaving was the only movement in his now petrid form.

He could do it. In a sick way he _wanted_ his father to do it, to finish what his jaws had already started and end him for his disrespect. To crush his throat, tare it from him in a fount of gore. To prove, apodictically, that he was not weak, that origin or no origin, humans or no humans, he was _powerful_.

Because he was. His pulse beat wildly against the vice of teeth, and with eyes like flame he knew his father was strong.

But his father didn't end him. He instead released him to bare teeth red with blood at his son, shaking the ground with a thunderous growl.

Sesshomaru continued to lay there long after his father had leapt to the skies and left him, feeling the sanguine fluid pour form his wound, nose thick with the alkaline smell of his own blood. It mixed with the sharp tinge of fresh pine, hanging heavily in the crushed remains of the glade their scuffle had decimated.

Eventually he rose, but not until the pounding in his head quieted.

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><p>.<p>

So the FF site pooped out to the max for a day so this didn't get up earlier like I was supposed too. Anywho, enjoy the father-son-ness.

As always, please **REVEIW!**


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